Normal
by Nova-Janna
Summary: Femmeslash, ClaireAllison. Three hours later found the two girls spread out on Claire’s frilly pink bed sheet, talking as if it was natural for the princess and the basket case to have sleepovers with each other.


**Disclaimer: Oh my goodness, I don't know what John Hughes would think if he read this. So not mine.**

**A/N: Well, here it is folks. My first ever femmeslash. Hard to write in some places, easy to write in others. It has undergone a lot of editing and tweaking, so be appreciative. **

**If you do not want to think about Allison and Claire ever having anything other than an almost-platonic relationship, please do not read this.**

It was with great foreboding and a lot of heartache the Claire found herself inviting Allison over to her house for a sleepover a week after their shared detention. And it was with some relief and even more foreboding that she smiled when Allison accepted – after a few moments of shocked silence – and told her when to come over.

Saturday night and she was sitting on her bed and trying to understand what she'd been thinking as she watched an awkwardly standing Allison survey her room.

"It's pink," Allison stated finally, and Claire smiled hesitantly.

"Yeah, I've had it since I was really little. Pink princess sort of theme – it was my mother's idea, originally."

"Your walls are so bare," Allison said, still gazing around.

"Yeah." Claire shifted uncomfortably. "You can sit down, you know."

Allison promptly sat down on the floor. Claire let out a little laugh, and Allison shifted her gaze to the other girl. "What sort of mural would you have on your wall?"

Claire was taken aback. "Maybe sort of a magical kingdom? I know that sounds cheesy, but it's just that whole escape idea…"

Allison regarded her thoughtfully. "It's not that cheesy."

Claire decided Allison's statement didn't need a response, and watched the brunette girl in her fascination. She was actually sort of pretty, Claire reflected in a way that good girls are allowed to reflect on the beauty of other girls. Not that she was going to be winning any modeling competitions in the near future – and Claire almost laughed out loud at the thought of Allison modeling anything – but she had a quiet beauty.

"You could have guys falling all over you if you wore your makeup and clothes differently," Claire said finally, and the look Allison gave her was enough to make her want to eat her words. "Sorry," Claire mumbled apologetically, "Stupid idea."

"Why am I here?"

"I just wanted you to come over." Clearly she needed to work on her nonchalance, because this new look of Allison was extremely doubtful.

"Is it about Bender?"

And leave it to Allison to hit the nail on the head, Claire thought to herself. This was completely about Bender. And then she broke down crying, and Allison disappeared for a few minutes, eventually re-entering Claire's room with a bottle of some sort of alcohol.

"Your parents need to get a better lock," Allison commented with a small smile, handing the now-opened bottle to Claire. "Why do you need to talk to me about Bender?"

Claire took a swig from the bottle and grimaced instantly – she'd never really understood the appeal of alcohol – but assumed that, once she was drunk enough, it wouldn't really matter. "He won't talk to me."

"At all?"

Claire shook her head and continued taking gulps.

"Not at all since detention?" Allison was fiddling with the hem of her enveloping black sweater and looking uncomfortable. Clearly she was about as used to dealing with crying teenage girls as Claire's father, or perhaps Bender.

"No, we talked on Monday," Claire managed, the taste of alcohol new in her mouth.

"What happened?" Allison was staring at her intently, like this was a really serious situation and not just Claire crying because some jerk wouldn't talk to her.

"We, um…Fought. A little." Claire ran her fingers over her bedspread and sighed. "Maybe a lot."

"Claire…" Allison said, and it was like a sigh and a warning and a guilt-trip all at once. But Claire sort of liked the way Allison said her name, as if it were a princess' name and she wasn't just one of millions of girls named Claire. Well, probably millions, anyways. It was a pretty common name.

"Claire!" Allison yelled in her face and Claire jumped and then snapped at the other girl.

"What?"

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing." Claire was being stubborn, and she knew it, but she refused to admit to the fact that the reason she was getting drunk and crying over a boy with a girl she hardly knew was not her fault at all. Allison glared. "About…Us. Whether there was an us."

"You wouldn't date him, would you? That's why he's ignoring you." She paused, as if for dramatic effect. "Because you were being a bitch again."

"God, you don't even know me!"

"Don't be stupid."

"You're the stupid one!" Claire looked at the bemused grin on Allison's face and burst into giggles. "That was stupid."

"Yeah," Allison replied, laughing ever so slightly, "It was."

* * *

Three hours later found the two girls spread out on Claire's frilly pink bed sheet, talking as if it was natural for the princess and the basket case to have sleepovers with each other.

Claire was drunk and Allison had apparently not had a drop to drink, or she was just very good at hiding it.

"Sometimes I just get so…sick of boys, you know? They can be really irritating, because they think they're the best at whatever it is they do and they are so far from it." Claire was definitely drunk. "Plus they smell."

Allison stared at her as she giggled. "How many boys have you kissed?"

She asked the question with such solemnity that Claire immediately stopped giggling and attempted to wipe the smile off her face. "Um, three, including Bender, I think." She giggled again, then a sad smile crossed her face. "What about you? How many people have you kissed?" She erupted into another fit of giggles. "I mean, you know, how many _boys _have you kissed?" Allison stared at her intently again. "What?" Claire asked, full of indignation she didn't really know why she had.

"What makes you think I've never kissed girls?"

"Well, you said you were kidding, you know, or lying, in detention about being a….A nypho…Addicted to sex." Claire went to sip from the seemingly endless bottle once again – perhaps she was such a princess her sips were just that dainty – but Allison quickly swiped it from her hands. Claire blinked at her for a moment, deciding whether or not to be angry, and then decided to continue with their conversation. "I've never kissed a girl."

Allison looked sharply at her, a questioning look in her eye. Claire scrambled up from her position, lying stomach-down on the bed, and sat up as straight as she could under the circumstances. "Not that I want to, I was just saying, because we'd been talking about it, and…." Claire stood up and crossed the room to a shelf of records. "What type of music do you like?"

"Probably nothing you have," Allison replied, an edge to her voice.

Claire looked at her pleadingly. "Well you could at least come look."

Allison stared at the pleading look for a moment, then crossed the thick, pink carpet. "I'll look."

"Good," Claire said, and giggled again. They spent the rest of the night listening to Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, and pretending they could dance when Allison hated the music and Claire couldn't really stand up.

* * *

Allison found Claire on Wednesday morning in between Claire's biology and English classes. She signaled to the redhead from across the hall, so subtlety that Claire almost missed it completely.

"I've got to go to the bathroom," Claire said, interrupting Jacqui mid-rant about her math teacher and receiving an indignant huff in response.

Allison met her in the bathroom. Claire checked her makeup in the mirror as Allison checked the cubicles to make sure they were empty. Both checks completed, they turned to each other.

"You came," Allison said, her tone a mixture of surprise and happiness. At the same time Claire snapped "What do you want?"

"Sorry," Claire said almost immediately, voice softening considerably as she watched Allison lower her head.

"Whatever," Allison said, raising her head and jutting her chin out defiantly. She began to push past Claire towards the door.

"Wait, I'm sorry, really," Claire said with a sigh, reaching out to stop Allison. Allison stopped.

"That was rude," Allison commented after a few moments, standing stiffly and facing Claire.

"I know."

"Well then why did you say it?"

"I wasn't thinking."

"Just like on Saturday?"

Claire took a deep breath, Allison's reference to the past weekend taking her off guard. She'd thought it was an unspoken yet mutual agreement to never speak of their sleepover. "Sometimes I don't think before I talk," Claire responded eventually, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Allison.

It wasn't. "You said you'd never kissed a girl." Allison stared at her. "I told you, I'd do anything sexual."

Claire huffed. "Why are you bringing this up now? I was drunk."

"I wanted to know why you said it."

"Because I was drunk!" Claire was getting increasingly nervous, and besides, the conversation was clearly going nowhere.

"I would have asked you sooner," Allison said, continuing on as if Claire hadn't said a word, "But I thought you'd be nervous."

"What makes you think I'm not nervous now?"

Allison shrugged. "I wasn't thinking."

"Why are you always so angry?" Claire was frustrated, and she most certainly did not like getting her own words thrown back in her face in a mocking tone.

"Why don't you stop asking questions?" Allison's tone was as defiant as ever.

"Why don't you start answering them?" Claire responded, matching Allison's attitude, and then wanted to hit herself for asking another question.

"I always answer questions," Allison responded.

"Well then, why did you call me here?" Claire was exasperated, but she figured she had enough patience left in her for one more question.

Allison leaned forward and pressed her lips to Claire's. Before Claire had time to act shocked and disgusted, her damned girly impulses had taken over and she was closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss. Then the bell rang, and she opened her eyes just in time to see the black hem of Allison's skirt sweeping out the door. Claire blinked and decided it would be best to re-do her lip gloss.

**A/N: Amazing isn't it, how Claire sounds a lot like Brian when she's drunk? Please review.**


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